Closed Tea Party Time

I would like to cordially invite you to... wait, I did what?

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Considered one of the most mysterious cities in Mizahar, Alvadas is called The City of Illusions. It is the home of Ionu and the notorious Inverted. This city sits on one of the main crossroads through The Region of Kalea.

Tea Party Time

Postby Jilitse on November 4th, 2011, 11:00 am

SOMETIME TOWARDS THE END OF FALL
IN FRONT OF MEKANIKS AND GOLAMS


This particular week started with copious writing. Jil, being a Nuit having no need for sleep, worked endlessly on increasing her shop's popularity. Business was breaking even, but she desired for more profit. The customers were trickling in, and the only way to lure more was to take action, she planned, writing these all down in a list:

Shouters - Hire someone to call out to customers as they pass by?

The sentence was crossed out a few times.

Give free stuff.

Small print: Will end up broke. Followed by: Buy one take one? Half the price off your second item? Sahova never stooped this low.

On the bottom of the list, encircled: Hand out flyers.

The fact of the matter was this: there weren't a lot of people who could work with magic, maybe there were better gadgeteers, but when it came to experience, Jil was much better at world magic. Her animated objects were top of its class, or at least better than what was available out there. She didn't want to compromise her profit for a few customers. They'll buy her items or they'll look for something else. The only way to increase profit would be to increase the number of people coming in. She noted, count the number of people coming in within the day, and make a table who buys an item and who doesn't.

She even noticed, as she was quite observant when it came to these things, that she was starting to cater to a particular group of people. Kids weren't her real customers, their parents were. Running Mekaniks and Golams meant appealing to the person with the money satchel. She wondered if what she was planning had good business sense. Anyway, she would find out soon.

Jilitse bought a stack of papers together with two bottles of ink, enough for about 40 to 50 fliers. Jil began steadfastly, working atop her table accompanied by candles until the wee hours of the night. She began by writing her shop's name, "Mekaniks and Golams", imitating the unusual script it was written with on the sign outside. It did not matter that writing and writing and writing was repetitive, she tirelessly swept her quill and pen on many sheets of paper, taking care to make sure that each line was written smoothly, each letter legible in straightforward Common. She layered the paper one atop the other with the shop name exposed to let the ink dry. Jil's diligence kicked in most of the time, evident in the way she would let the quill drip on the bottle's mouth to ensure that the ink wouldn't smudge once she wrote. The best thing about living a mediocre life is that, though you would not make particular effort to excel, you skirt the point where you become a failure. Right now, there was nowhere to go but up up up: her desire to improve and develop herself burn brighter than the light on her wax candles.

This was the end of being mediocre! Fantastic!

As she wrote her shop's name on the last flyer, Jil took a separate piece of paper. Her mind whirred and sparkled today, barely resting. It was exhilarating, and she felt like she will never get bored again.

"Jilitse would like to invite you to visit Mekaniks and Golams at the Bizarre. It's the perfect time to buy a trinket as a gift or a bauble for decoration. Best automatic gadgets. Accepts requests for automatons."


She wrote these exact same words using the exact same script on each of her flyers. She closed shop that day because she anticipated that it would take her a full day to finish them. The problem was in handing them out, though in retrospect, she should have just opted to give out the flyers on her own. She had hired a dubious kelvic cat with a mesmerizing grin to hand them out, paid him a copper for every flyer he'd sent out.

Those who received the invitation came across a person with a disconcerting smile, or an unusually-colored unusually-striped cat. Perhaps they received the flyer while they were on the streets, or the strange messenger delivered it to their homes. Jilitse didn't really know how the cat distributed the flyers, and later she would wonder if the cat had distributed them at all.

The paper would read "Mekaniks and Golams" but would not contain the original message. Instead, in pretty script:

"I, Jilitse, owner of Mekaniks and Golams, would like to cordially invite you to celebrate my first month in Alvadas. There will be tea and tarts and chat of magic and mystery. Hoping that you would join me at the Bizarre the day before tomorrow at the sixth strike of the bell in the afternoon."


Those who would visit would find a long table in front of Jilitse's shop. It would be filled with numerous treats and tarts and teapots of various shapes and sizes. But none of them appeared to be tangible. Jilitse would be seen arguing with an unseen companion, complaining about "this table in front of my shop", waving the original flyer at the invisible enemy.

OOC :
The table, the tea and the treats are just illusions. Treat them as such. Hoping to make new friends here in Alvadas and complain about the many weird occurences in the lovely city. Let's be friends!


Last edited by Jilitse on December 6th, 2012, 11:55 am, edited 2 times in total.
I. Vox Populi, Vox Dei
II. The Night the Watchtowers Cried

I am nothing special, of this I am sure. I am a common woman with common thoughts and I've led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten, but I've loved another with all my heart and soul, and to me, this has always been enough.
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Tea Party Time (Open)

Postby Laute on November 4th, 2011, 8:06 pm

When Laute woke from his nap, Aditi was sitting beside him, her feet curled beneath her as she gazed at the elegant cursive scrawled on the page. Slowly, meticulously, she read the message, occasionally bringing a hand up to move the bangs out of her face. Her hood was pulled down, no longer able to keep back the quickly-growing hair.

She needed a haircut before it became too much of a problem. Bleary, he grimaced at the pale sunlight that filtered through the trees, edging away into the deeper shadow at the base of the trunk. Even within the Bizarre, the city had way of playing tricks. The trees, the sunlight, if he hadn't entered the building he would have assumed he was outside. Even the cobbled stones beneath him were worn from rain and use.

His slave remained quiet, mouthing the words as she struggled with the letter.

"What is it?" he grunted, focusing on the scrap in her hands. She had probably taken a walk while he was sleeping, receiving the letter while she amused herself.

Startled, she lost concentration, her head shooting up to look at him. Her surprise gave way to the calm he was used to, her shocked expression melting away. "An invitation."

The curiosity in her remained, even as she leaned forward to hand over the sheet. "I'm don't know when," she continued, puzzled over the odd wording. The day before tomorrow. Her reading skills were weak, mostly picked up during their travels, and she knew she must have read that part wrong.

The paper was yellow, appearing worn with age by the time he plucked it from his slave's hands. Skimming the silver writing, he raised an eyebrow himself. The event itself was ordinary, but the timing...strange. He went over it once more, intrigued now.

He got up then, stretching his wings as he did. In this empty grove between shops, there was no one to witness them as they arced out, bending and flapping slowly. The cricks in back gone now, he folded his wings once more around his body.

Mekaniks and Golams. He had never heard of the shop, but the Bizarre had a way of leading you to where you want to go. It was enough to just start walking--the streets would twist and turn and eventually he would find the shop.

As he moved, Aditi scrambled behind him to quickly pack up the small bag she carried. A smile graced her face and eagerly she chased after him. For once, they were both on the same page, travelling toward this shop of curiosities.

And when he arrived, he wasn't that surprised by the apparent madness of his host. After all, her message showed it all too clearly. Arguing with the thin air, a large spread of treats in front of her, he glanced up at the shop name.

Mekaniks and Golams.

The same place then. Eyeing the treats, he moved to the table. A hand went through the table, submerged in the illusion before him. No surprise there, the treats had been scentless and to do that would have truly required magic.
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Tea Party Time (Open)

Postby Jilitse on November 6th, 2011, 2:54 pm

The first guest had arrived. Jilitse was tormented at the notion that she would have to host an imaginary tea party. The grinning cat kelvic, which, unbeknownst to Jilitse, was invisible to others, had been sincerely apologizing. He did not know how the words changed and why. Would Jilitse kindly pay for his trouble?

Laute could now overhear half the conversation. The Nuit's voice was loud, but still in dreary monotone. And even then it had a lyrical quality to it.

"How can you explain this? I spent a day writing these flyers." She pointed at the flyer with one hand. "Each and everyone of them! No, that is impossible I would never make such a mistake. This is unacceptable. Yes. I know. I'm trying to believe you." She paused, listening to her invisible companion, "Stop grinning!" And if Laute was paying attention he could have chanced upon the grin, but not the cat kelvic.

Slowly her face changed expression. The invisible person or hallucination she was talking to must have said something that caught her off guard. "What do you mean by that?" The change of tone was noticeable, and Jil swept around. A Zith was there, making himself comfortable. The cat kelvic had alerted Jilitse that her first "guest" had arrived.

Slowly, she sauntered towards Laute. Jil was about to close the distance and shoo him away when a man, appearing out of nowhere, came running to the table, he was holding out his top hat, as if to catch something falling from the sky. He acted as if he caught something, or rather, a few things. From his hat he pulled out a number of rabbits! Out of thin air! Or really, out of his hat. Jil's eyes widened in wonder.The man was running around the table in an attempt to catch invisible falling rabbits!

This was definitely worse than an acid trip. He even managed to pull out a hare from his hat. The rest of them, five cute rabbits, fell onto the table, some of them landing on teacups. "You can't have tea party without rabbits!" He exclaimed. Jil took a startled step back. Was this as sign that she should play the part of the hostess? She eyed Laute and then Aditi curiously. A paused, she turned to the intruder, "Excuse me, Mister?"

"Oh dear, oh dear,"
the man said. "I thought I was going to be late for tea!" And he let out an unsure laugh. The table was once again an art of reality. He pulled a teacup and waited for Jilitse to pour him some tea.

Unsurely, the Nuit pulled a pot and served her first cup of tea. As the running man sipped his hot drink, she turned to Laute. "Goodness dear. I assume you are also here because of a flyer? Do you still have it? May I see it?" She wanted to know if Laute received the original flyer or not.

OOC :
Those of you doing the NaNo challenge, feel free to make the running man run with the hare. Or play with the bunnies in the teacups (in the same post).


I. Vox Populi, Vox Dei
II. The Night the Watchtowers Cried

I am nothing special, of this I am sure. I am a common woman with common thoughts and I've led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten, but I've loved another with all my heart and soul, and to me, this has always been enough.
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Tea Party Time (Open)

Postby Shkara on November 6th, 2011, 5:35 pm

Shkara was a bit creatively exhausted after working with the troupe from last night well into the afternoon. They had been incredibly demanding, and could never make up their mind. And as they changed their character ideas, or plot ideas, or any petching idea they could spur up, they would make her change their hair, or makeup, or costume, to fit the new scenario, only to change it again in a half bell. It was frustrating, but good practice she supposed. She'd been in this city for a few weeks now. She couldn't say that she was accustomed to it yet, but she was learning to adapt.

Now that the rest of the troupe was sleeping, Yearning, as they forced Shkara to go by while around them, was ready to do her most important project. Herself. She sat down on the lumpy chaise lounge in the center of their shack. She had no mirror, but she trusted in her skills and the feel of her hands. She pulled the pin holding her hair up, the dark lengths tumbling down past her shoulders. She knew she had to do something outrageous, something that married Ahnatep's fashion superiority and Alvadas' unusual nature.

"Why not snakes? Dark, gloomy, vicious, evil snakes."


That was Misery, one of the members of the troupe. She was a Rattler Dhani, and was one of the actors of the troupe, as well as being in charge of the musical bits. She was very odd, but still likeable.

Shkara thought about her advice and smiled. She could do that. By now, the troupe knew that a smile from Shkara was truth highest to them. They were all devil's of the spoken word, Shkara being no exception, so they all had their own nuances to show sincerity. Snakes were a brilliant idea, and would be painfully difficult. She figured she could go with several three strand braids, paint them to look like snakes, and then weave them into coils atop her head to dangle down. She figured she could pull off three thick "snake braids."

Her own hair was a very dark brown, but she wanted her "snakes" to be vibrant in color. She settled on a dark blue colored snake with a bright red head and base for one, a bright vibrant green, with yellows and black, and finally a deep, dangerous red. She pulled out her exotic paints, and several bone pins, colored to blend into her hair, and decided to get to work on the blue "snake." She painted a couple of the bone pins the light blue that she would use for the base of the snake, and set them off to the side to dry. She then set her four hands to work combing through her hair, removing the tangles and straightening it out. She then borrowed three lengths of strength from Misery, on promise to return them when done. She separated her hair into the sections and tied them off, solely to keep them from each other. She began with the first strand, up on to front left side of her scalp, and pulled the string loose. She placed the blue pins into the base of her hair to hold the braid in place. Three of her hands plucked three equal groupings of hair, and separated them as well. She first crossed two of the groupings while leaving the third running parallel to them. She then crossed the top strand of the intersecting groupings, with the parallel strand, ensuring the latter to be on top. She then took that new strand on top and crossed it with the remaining strand. She repeated this quickly, aided by having two extra hands over normal humans. When she was done, she tied the braid off with the string, ensuring to leave a single length of the string as slack.

She repeated the process with the other two prepared lengths of hair, having already painted the remaining bone pins red and green respectively. Now that she had the base for her snakes, now came the tricky part. She opened two of her blue paints, one dark, one brighter. She put a brush into the bright blue paint, and using her three other hands, she held up the incredibly long braid. She began painting the underside of the braid. It was a long, arduous process. Each stroke needed to go in deep, needed to be coated several times. This would not only make the color that much more vibrant, but would keep any of her dark brown hairs from going astray or poking through. But she ensured not to put too much in it, as she didn't want it to stiffen up. As her paint brush reached the "head" of the snake, she stopped, to allow the paint to dry. As it was drying, she grabbed her very expensive, very rare jar of black paint and her eating knife. First, she used the knife to split the end of the slack of the string, to give it the forked look of a snake tongue. Then she painted it in the dark black, several times to stiffen up. She then threaded it into the tip of the braid, coming out right at the very end. She then painted the tip of the braid the bright blue. After that dried, she painted in the eyes, making it look quite similar to a snake head. Finally she finished that braid by painting the topside in the darker, navy blue. She looked it over while it dried, and liked it, but didn't love it. It needed something... more. To make it more real. Scales. She sighed. This would be expensive, and take that much longer. But perfection is in the details. She grabbed her thin brush and her black paint and set to work.

After the scales were done, she looked it over and was finally satisfied. She then began on the other two snakes. She gave the braid in the back the deed red color, with a pinkish tongue, and the third snake on the right the vibrant greens and yellows with a red tongue. After two bells of adding scales, the coloring was done. Now to style the braids together. She needed Misery's help for this, as sometimes not even four hands is enough. She wound the snakes to sit atop her head, like a snake coil, except all three were intertwined. This gave it a sort of beehive look, albeit in the colors of the snakes. She had designed it so that all three snakes would be emerging from within the coils. The blue snake draped down and over her left shoulder, on the front of her chest. The red snake draped down her back, up around her neck, and the head hung down between the valley of her breasts. Finally the green and yellow snake, hung down and over right shoulder and down her arm.

Four bells down, and she still needed to do her makeup. She went simpler, so as to not detract from her hair. Some simple reddish tinge on the cheeks, some black and silver on the eyes, and silver on her lips. She felt ready to go outside, first posing for Misery. Misery chuckled with a frown on her face, meaning she liked it. Shkara moved to the door to notice that it wasn't there. She sighed. She still wasn't used to their humble shack constantly moving. She looked around for the door and saw it between her bunk and the wall. She crawled onto her bunk, careful not to hit her hair on the bunk above, and opened the door outwards. She looked around to make sure she wasn't stepping into a pit or anything like that. She saw the ocean, and deduced she was near the port like normal.

She stepped out onto the street and began walking around the perplexing town. She remembered a few rules she gave herself. First, always pay attention to where you are walking and where you are headed. Second, always take wide corners when walking around. Third, duck when random fliers fly toward your face. That third rule, however, was one she hadn't remembered. So now she had a flier that she was peeling off of her recently adorned face. She looked down at the flier. Mekaniks and Golams? She didn't know what that meant, but she did love parties. She didn't know what tea was however. Sixth bell huh? I hope I haven't miss- The sound of the watchtower's bell chimed six times, strangely on cue. Continuing to read the flier, she absentmindedly ignored the first two rules as she just kept walking. She didn't even bother to see if people liked her strange hairstyle.

A shriek filled the air in front of her. "AH!!!!!!!!!!!! SNAKES!!!"
She looked up and saw a very strange, very bright blue... moth? And the moth was screaming and clearly afraid of snakes. She smirked slightly, at least someone thought they were realistic. But... Why was no one else staring at the screaming moth? She shrugged it off, figuring that maybe this was a common occurrence for this town. Then the moth grabbed her flier and sped off down the street. Shkara yelled after it, and gave chase, "Give that back you stupid bug!" After chasing the moth down a few streets, an alley, and through a very strange grassy knoll, the stupid thing finally stopped, disappeared, and dropped her flier to the cobblestones. Shkara picked it up, caught her breath, and looked at the flier. It now read, 'Look up'. So she did. "Mekaniks and Golams," she whispered. She smiled to herself, this town was definitely interesting. Maybe she needed to ignore her rules more often...

She saw a, to be quite frank, ghastly woman arguing with air, and speaking to some strange bestial looking creature. The woman looked... well she looked dead. Whoever did her makeup should have their hands cut off. And if she did that to herself, well, the poor thing. She saw the table with all the different plates and containers, and reached for a cup labeled tea. After all, that's what the flier said, and she wanted to try it. And her hand passed through into thin air, nearly toppling her into the table itself. Now she was sorely disappointed, she really looked forward to trying tea. "What sort of fraud is this?"


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Tea Party Time (Open)

Postby Laute on November 8th, 2011, 12:07 am

Glancing down at the paper once more, he now saw an arrow pointing to the girl, marking her as Jilitse. Studying the paper, he could see no sign of the previous message, no ink stains left of the words it used to contain. In fact, the once yellowed paper took a blue tinge to it and seemed creased from folding. Bemused, he followed the arrow to the hostess.

Her eyes were intently fixed on one spot, her voice oddly monotone despite the expression on her face. Gesturing, she seemed erratic with her actions against her invisible assailant. Sniffing, he could fix the faint smell of fish and dried ink from the spot next to her.

The argument was growing tedious, her scent revolting. Though she was clearly alive, albeit quite tired and pale looking, her scent said otherwise. A contradiction among contractions, he watched her movements as she approached him. Even her walking seemed ordinary, so why was her scent so strange?

Before he could puzzle it out, a strange man appeared. Almost dancing as he ran, he sprung around the table, wielding his hat like an empty bowl. Occasionally, his arms dipped down, as though catching something heavy, and no matter how many times Laute took in his smell, it changed. Mint to earthy soil to salty air, not one time did his overpowering smell remain the same.

It was only when the man reached into his broad-rimmed hat, his hand sinking deep into the hollow hole, that any purpose to his mad ramblings appeared. Long brown ears and a twitching nose emerged, a white-gloved hand gently handling the rabbit. Beside him, he could hear Aditi gasp, surprised.

He was startled as well, the illusions of this city never seemed as real as they did this time. Rabbit after rabbit flopped onto the table, browns and whites and blacks. A grey hare ended the line, larger and with a smaller tail than the rest.

His slave reached down to a cup, trying to touch the rabbit that could sit in illusions. Considering it smelled of sweets, it couldn't be real, but she was able to pet it all the same. Despite its large body, the rabbit fit snugly into the teacup and he reached down to touch it himself.

Hard fur met his touch and though the rabbit was real enough, there was an illusion cloaking it as well. This was not its true form, or maybe this table was not entirely here.

The man spoke, requesting the tea promised, and as he did the rabbits merged with the cups. The design was a strange breed, some cups containing a natural image of the rabbit. Others retained the ears and tail, the buck-teeth, and he could swear they still moved as they waited the hot liquid.

When the odd female poured the tea, they didn't so much as twitch. The rabbit-cups remained still, eating the illusions of cake and sweets. Turning his attention back to the girl as she spoke, he noted that her scent was now hidden, buried beneath the collection of smells that came from the hat man.

The flyer? Ah, the paper in his hands. Dropping the scrap on her hands, he watched as the message on it changed once more. On the far end of the table, he could see a young Eypharian crash through the not-quite illusion. With four-arms instead of six, she wasn't like the one he met before.

In her hands was another flyer. Another invite to this party of sorts.

"Is the tea real?" he finally asked, for his senses were of no use to him here. At one of the chairs pulled up to the table sat a fat pig, bawling and turning red as a grumpy mouse poured tea on its belly. An illusion, probably, for the pig was dressed in a bib and sitting on a infant's chair, while the mouse was primly clothed in the fashions of yesterday. Ruffled cuffs hid the small paws that carefully picked up tea-cup after tea-cup, a small pink nose sniffing each delicately.

"Earl Grey." "Oolong." "Rooibos." "White." Proclaiming their name, he would then swiftly dump the steaming liquid on the pig's head, the tea hitting the ground with a splash.
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Tea Party Time (Open)

Postby Jilitse on November 8th, 2011, 11:54 pm

It was getting weirder and weirder by the minute. Jil had her share of changing streets and indescribable random occurrences, she wouldn't say she was surprised - she had been around for nearly a season after all. But this, all of this was now starting to become a mad tea party! Mad!

She placed the back of her hand on her forehead delicately, making it appear like she was going to faint anytime. Another guest had arrived, this time an Eypharian. She had seen Shkara's people when she passed by Ahnatep on her way to Yahebah a season or two ago. They were an arrogant lot, often thought very highly of themselves. Nuits were looked down upon in Ahnatep. It amazed Jil that the woman kept the dignity and preserved the Eypharian beauty - dressed for the occasion and always too glamorous for her own good. The Nuit was interested in particular at the women's fashion style. Alvadas was a city of performers, and her outfit and hairstyle marked her as one. SHe was crafty, this one, snakes for her hair and beautifully painted too!

Laute on the other hand was probably skeptic of the tea table as well, noticing even more oddities. He did not seem as perplexed as Jilitse. But why would he, he wasn't the one who wrote out invitations to a sale and got a tea party instead? The Zith was towering, a good few fingers taller than Jil. He looked quite menacing, if the Nuit was to be intimidated. It appeared that both Zith and Eypharian came here today out of curiosity.

The most important thing running through Jil's head was that she should not fight against what was in front of her. Often times illusions were harmless, nothing but good fun. And even when they mean to lead you astray from what you want to do and whatever it is that you believe in, you should never treat it unkindly. The best thing to do was, "Acknowledge it as if it was." This was to Laute. Jilitse was still waiting for him to hand over his flyer. "Alvadas hates it when you think of its illusions as a figment of your imagination."

The Nuit then turned to face the Eypharian. They were not in Ahnatep and there was no reason for her to be in a high horse. This event was, technically, Jilitse's tea party time. The Nuit spoke clearly in her monotone voice, the dull notes concealing her rising enthusiasm. "Hello." Yes, you, Shkara. "Welcome to the front of my shop." She turned back to Laute, "I suppose I should welcome you as well."

To both of them, as they appear to be the two most "normal" guests, she said, "I wrote out a flyer today inviting people to visit my shop." A hand pointed to the sign on the wall. It was a small square plaque, clearly visible, but not really that outstanding. "For some unknown (Or was it really? She sounded unsure) reason," she then threw her squinted eyes at someone occupying the air beside her, "my invitations changed. I specifically wrote out..." and she read the original to them, hoping for their acknowledgement that it was what they read, and not the tea party invitation.

"Alvadas is such an irrational place. I think my brain is going to crack soon." And this was true. A Nuit's logic had no match for the ever changing city. It could not attempt to figure out or solve the mysteries of the City of Illusions. However, there were always means to circumvent that. Jil hoped that Laute and Shkara would be kind as to sympathize with her, if not offer an explanation why this was happening. "Still, thank you for coming to this..." she threw out an arm and swept it above the tea table, "mad tea party."


I. Vox Populi, Vox Dei
II. The Night the Watchtowers Cried

I am nothing special, of this I am sure. I am a common woman with common thoughts and I've led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten, but I've loved another with all my heart and soul, and to me, this has always been enough.
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Tea Party Time (Open)

Postby Laute on December 1st, 2011, 4:59 pm

Though it would be folly to ignore the illusion--the city always set aside the darker deceptions for those who did--Laute could not accept it as real either. To do so would be to drink it and either his hands would pass through the cup or the liquid inside would be something dangerously different.

Instead, he examined the rabbit-cups once more. A violet-coloured one hopped in front of him. The only cup elements it had were the handle and the patterns on its fur, the scenes of snow and wild elk. Stupidly, it entered his hands as he reached down to pick it.

Prey should never be that willing to approach a predator. These bumbling rabbits would never survive long if they trusted that easily.

The warm blob in his hands had a thick coat. His fingers sunk in the strands before finding the warm body underneath. So the rabbit was warm as well. The white porcelain handle was warm as well, contrary to the chilled appearance it gave.

Even its heartbeat was calm, not the rapid thudding he was used to. Did it not smell Laute's scent? The blood that had ingrained itself into his hands? Even when he squeezed the body tight, the heartbeat remained calm and steady.

At least the girl--she spoke now, of her invite. Though her voice wavered slightly, troubled, her expression remained the same. How odd. Not a flicker of emotion made its way onto her face, expressed in her voice alone.

He could see the flyer on the table change appearance once more, turning into light blue stationary with a simple Lies! printed on it. It change once more, into a dark red and the words moved and merged to create a new message. Not really.

So the messages weren't safe to the city's tricks. The paper continued to change, containing an argument within itself.

Aditi paused at the words, looking down at the new one on the paper. Tentatively, she tried once more to touch the food, the large platters of scones and eclairs, of truffles and sandwiches. Her hand went through one only to successfully touch another.

It seemed that real food had been mixed in with the fake. A reward for the believe, perhaps, or another way for the city to amuse itself. Humans had always claimed that cities were alive but he did not think they intended it in this way.

The rabbit in his hands squirmed slightly at his grip and he stared down at it once more. Annoyingly, despite how tight his hands were locked around the beast, its heartbeat remained the same.

Even that girl, when she first saw him, wasn't as--he stopped at that, turned back to stare at her once more. He hadn't noticed it at first, with all the sounds around him, but now that he concentrated on her, it was obvious.

Her heart wasn't beating.
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Laute
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Joined roleplay: July 18th, 2011, 6:35 am
Race: Zith
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